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SHORT PATENT SERMONS, 



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By CALEB SIKES, P. M. P 



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COPYRIGHTED MA'S 5, 1883, HY C. H. KIGGK, 



THE SECULAR PUL 



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—A SERIES OF— 



SHORT PATENT SERMONS, 




By CALEB S IKES, P. M. P. 



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Adapted to all times and all places. 
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My text may be found in Robert Burns's "Epistle 
to Davie," the first clause of the second verse: — 

Its hardly in a body's power 

To keep at times from being sour, 
To see how things are shared. ' 

My Disquieted Heaeebs: — "Things" are very un- 
equally divided up, in this world; that is to say, 
according to the laws, customs, and usages of civilized 
nations one man can own an amazing quantity of 
land, a railroad or two, several legislatures and a big 
slice of congress, a church, and two or three daily 
newspapers, a bank or two, and as many fast horses 
as he chooses; while another man, who wears the 
same sized hat and boots, cannot own land enough 
to build a log cabin, and earns the bread he eats by 
pegging away from day to day at some trade or 



profession. As the Scottish bard aptly expresses it, 
"It's hardly in a body's power, to keep at times from 
being sour," when we see some big nobody, who 
perhaps never did a square day's work at anything, 
rolling in wealth, while we, the common people, find 
it difficult to make our ends meet after a year of 
incessant toil and often of privation. 

But, my hearers, it is one thing to see, or imagine, 
a wrong, and another to right it. I knew a man 
once who attempted to mend a hole in a coffee pot, 
and in soldering up one hole he melted two bigger 
ones, which he couldn't mend. 

Now it is an easy matter to talk about monopolies 
and bloated bondholders, and railroad magnates, and 
bank nabobs, on the one hand ; and of poor, laboring 
men, mechanics, mudsills, and plebeians, on the 
other. And then it is easy to form anti-monopoly 
leagues, trades-unions, and talk of equal chances, 
equal rights, agrarianism, communism, nihilism, and 
all the other isms, but what does it avail? Now, my 
acidulated hearers, suppose all the property in lands, 
buildings, stocks, money and offices, were equally 
divided among the whole of us, how would the case 
stand at first sight. Everybody would put on his 
best clothes and stand around waiting for somebody 
else to go to work, and this somebody else would say, 
"I am well enough. off, let those work who like it." 
And if any of you, my beloved, can tell who would 
be the first man to roll up his sleeves and go in for 
the rough work, you have half solved this question. 

But, suppose again everything was divided up 
equally, and the word was given, "Now boys you are 



all on a perfectly equal footing, and here are equal 
rights, and equal chances for all, go in." I have 
seen a great many, in my time, sit down to a game of 
checkers. One man would have just as many men as 
the other, and their chances were perfectly equal. 
But, somheow, after a little playing, one player would 
have all the other fellow's men, and the other fellow 
wouldn't have enough left to start business on. Just 
how the thing is done cannot be told, but it is always 
the way, that one man comes out ahead in a race. 
How long would it take, my brethren, if property was 
all equally divided, for us to get back again about 
where we are now. To have everything just as we 
desire is a thing most devoutly to be wished, but 
just exactly how to get it, "Aye, there's the rub." 

Our revolutionary fathers sought to establish a 
government upon the principle, "that all men were 
created equal," &c. But how it has worked let all 
these acidulated growlers testify. You see how it is, 
yourselves, brethren, and now if anything short of 
outright communism will place us all on a perfect 
(property) equality, and keep us there, let him who 
can explain what, now stand forth and testify. 

But, my vainly ambitious and sorely deluded 
hearers, let me conjure you to take into serious 
consideration the glorious and divinely appointed 
system of labor. Show me a tribe of men who never 
labor and I will show you a tribe of the most miser- 
able human vermin that root their subsistence out of 
the globe. Suppose a few men own a few railroads 
and legislatures each, it shows that they are smart. 
And how are they going to run their roads, without 



employing an army of mudsills to do the work for 
them? Money will buy almost everything, and it 
would not be worth having if we could not spend it. 
And if a man is able to buy a legislature or two, and 
a few congressmen, let him invest his money in that 
way. I tell you, brethren, that Oakes Ames was 
worth more to build the first Pacific railroad, than a 
half dozen ordinary legislatures, with congress thrown 
in. Great deeds are accomplished by great means, 
and there is often more executive ability bound up 
in one man, than in a State House full of ordinary 
statesmen. Never mind a few magnates and nabobs. 
They do not go to seed, and when the crop is gath- 
ered somebody else has a chance. Dig away brethren. 
If you are at the foot of the ladder, contrite, if you 
can, to get up one round, and don't let go, either. 
It is letting the round slip out of your hand, where 
you fail. Get up a round, stick to it, and then go 
for the next one. We cannot all get to the top, and 
there will everlastingly be some at the foot; but go 
up earnestly, honestly, industriously, and without 
any sourness or grumbling, and 
So mote it be. 




My test for this occasion may be found in the 
words of the immortal Shakespeare, as contained in 
the tragedy of Othello, Act III, Scene 3. 

It is my nature s plague 

To spy into abuses, and, oft my jealousy 
Shapes faults that are not. 

Good name, in man, or woman, 

Is the immediate jewel of their souls. 

My Eering Hearers: — These words were placed 
in the mouth of Iago, one of the meanest cusses 
which the mind of the great poet ever invented. 
Iago was one of those oily-tongued philosophers, 
whose eagle eye was ever spying into every act of 
friend or foe. He was almost an oracle, and in his 
volubility he uttered great truths and wise maxims, 
and he seemed to himself the very embodiment of 



wisdom, while Ms plausible and ingratiating manners 
carried convictions wherever his insinuations direct- 
ed them. He based his theories on facts, but when 
facts were lacking to carry out any plot which his 
mind had set afloat, he did not scruple to manufac- 
ture facts for the occasion. 

Iago was no fool. He could read human character 
at a glance. He could tell a gossip as far as he could 
see one, and in playing upon great and noble minds 
his attacks were made upon their weakest points, 
and he seldom missed his object. He was even 
aware of his own weaknesses when he confesses, in 
the words of my text, "It is my nature's plague to 
sry into abuses, and, oft my jealousy shapes faults 
that are not." 

My hearers, Shakespeare was a great man, although 
he attended theaters. He could climb higher, dive 
deeper, and hold out longer than any of our modern 
poets. He had an amazing faculty of discerning the 
true inwardness and outwardness of human character, 
and his dramatic works are better than any looking- 
glass ever invented. You can look into them and 
see yourself inside out, bottom upwards, or in any 
shape you desire. He calls things by their right 
names without any false modesty, and exhibits virtue 
in all its chastity and beauty, and vice in all its 
hideous deformities. Thus, my hearers, in the char- 
acter of Iago, our great poet gives us all the lights 
and shades, the ins and the outs of the gossip and 
scandal-monger. Iago fostered mischief and peddled 
scandal just for the love of it. He aroused a jealousy 
in Othello by a pretended friendship for him, and 



made him believe that Mrs. Othello was untrue to 
him, and kept company with another fellow. Othello 
was the very soul of truth and honor. Mrs. Desde- 
mona Othello was pure, loving, and confiding, as 
every good wife should be, when she has a husband 
that knows a good wife from a poor one. 

Little by little did the designing Iago infuse the 
poison of jealousy into the mind of the noble 
Othello, until he at length saw nothing in his pure 
and loving Desdemona but deception and treachery. 
Iago had no cause for malice towards his confiding 
friend Desdemona, and while playing the part of 
mutual Mend between man and wife, he was contin- 
ually laying snares for his unsuspecting victims, into 
which he drove them by his treachery. The tragic 
fate of Mr. and Mrs. Othello was a sad sequel to this 
unhappy scandal, and the whole story should inspire 
US' with a hatred for scandal-mongers. 

There are Iagos in every town and village, who 
stand convicted of "nature's plague, to spy out 
abuses and shape faults that are not." Scandal 
never takes the back track, but travels from house to 
house like the tramp, and at every house it visits 
something sticks to it, and off it goes for its next 
victim. Language is a great blessing, but it is 
cheap; so cheap that it is used for the vilest purposes. 
By its use the purest character in society can be 
covered with contempt. Some Iago gets a hitch on 
him and dogs his footsteps, and begins to hint that 
he knows something wrong about him. He gets 
some insipid gossip started, and soon nothing is too 
absurd for the people to believe. 



10 

And now, my dear hearers, let me tell you, do not 
say anything about your neighbor that you are not 
willing to write down and sign your name to. What 
you believe or what somebody else believes, proves 
nothing. Belief is not evidence ; on the contrary it 
is a mere want of evidence. Stick to your legitimate 
business of telling what you know, and don't tell all 
you know either. You cannot make your own char- 
acter whiter by spreading lampblack on somebody 
else. But there is one thing you can do with a clear 
conscience — tell all the good you know of anybody 
and everybody. It is as harmless as homoeopathic 
pills. If it does no good, it will do no harm. Abuse 
gossip and slander with a conscientious zeal until it 
has no longer any power over the human race, and 

So mote it be. 




My text for this occasion may be found in Shake- 
speare's drama "Taming the Shrew," in Act II. 
'Tis deeds must win theorize. 

My Unscrupulous Heaeees: — These words were.* 
part of an address which Shakespeare furnished for 
one of his characters in this highly characteristic 
drama. Baptista was an elderly, wealthy gentleman, 
of Italy, who had two daughters, Katharina and 
Bianca. It was not by any means a strange circum- 
stance that one of his daughters was a shrew, and as 
such was not so attractive as the other, who, it 
seems, had two suitors who sought her hand. Hav- 
ing some difficulty between themselves, these two 
lovers appealed to the old gentleman to decide the 
matter between them. One was a young aspiring; 



12 

youth, and the other, though a little past his prime, 
was severely smitten with the charms of the lovely 
young Bianca. The old gentleman very complacently 
said to these two lovers, "Stand back gentlemen, I'll 
compound this strife, 'tis deeds must win the prize." 

There is nothing in this world which is worth 
having, not even the favor of a young lady with a 
rich father, which is not worthy of the best possible 
effort. It is an easy thing to cultivate a moustache. 
It is an easy thing to smoke prime cigars, when you 
can get trusted for them. It is an easy thing to wear 
fine clothes, when your tailor will take your note in 
payment for them. It is an easy thing to make 
costly presents to the ladies, when you can get 
trusted on the pretence of having a rich uncle. But 
where solid deeds are required, "Aye, there's the 
rub." There is no doubt but that there is a prize 
package for everybody who offers deeds for its ac- 
quirement. There is no use in lying back and 
investing in penny prize packages, or buying lottery 
tickets, or waiting for some rich relative (which you 
never had) to die and leave you a fortune and a rep- 
utation. The chances are a thousand to one against 
you. Deeds are the only consideration for which 
you have any reason to expect rich returns, and the 
returns never can be expected to exceed the equiva- 
lent. The greatest failures in life arise from expecting 
too much and doing too little. 

And now, my hearers, I will lay down a few specific 
rules, the most of which have been tried, and found 
to pay dividends. The first great secret of success 
in life is economy. This is a great word and express- 



13 

es more than almost any other word in our language. 
In the great world of nature nothing goes to waste. 
Everything which has existence fills its place, and 
however insignificant in itself, it adds something to 
the development of some higher form of existence, 
and nothing is too mean to be utilized in nature's 
great laboratory. Economy signifies making the 
' best use of everything and allowing nothing to go to 
waste. This then is the starting point in life. 

Waste no time. Time is the dividends we receive 
from the stock we hold in eternity. It is too valua- 
ble to waste. It costs too much to make it to throw 
it away or waste it in idleness and dissipation. 
There is a tremendous sight of machinery used in 
grinding out a single day, and when a day is lost 
you can never recover damages by any legal process. 

The next use for economy is, never waste anything 
on yourself. If you have never bestowed any thought 
upon this principle of economy it is time you went 
to school. You have a certain freehold in this 
world in one certain piece of humanity which is 
represented by "I." It is now your business to make 
the best possible use of this possession. It requires 
a certain amount of covering to make it respectable 
in the eyes of the world. It is not respectable for a 
hundred dollar man to wear ten thousand dollar 
clothes. This is contrary to all rules of economy — 
or respectability. 

Then you want to be healthy, vigorous and active. 
Here is where you can put in a great deal of study, 
and this is where you will get the largest dividends 
for your investment. The man or woman who is 



14 

well fed will seldom want a doctor or undertaker. 
You can get health, satisfaction, and peace of mind 
out of a very simple diet, costing a few dimes, while 
the man who lives sumptuously and intemperately 
pays a penalty on his enjoyments in headache, colic, 
and nightmare. A good physique with a clean 
character as well as a clean skin, is the best outfit to 
start in life with, that you can have. And then you 
will see, "lis deeds must win the prize, and you will 
be just fitted for winning. A suit of nice clothes 
covered by a mortgage, and a constitution enfeebled 
by too much mince pie, cake and wine, is a poor 
capital to commence life on, and will yield no divi- 
dends. There's nothing like health, and this you can 
have by pursuing the right means to obtain it and 
preserve it. The stomach never was made for a 
receptacle of all the rubbish of a grocery store and 
drug store. It was just calculated to carry along a 
half day's provision in. 'Tis deeds, done for your- 
self, must win the prize, as well as deeds of a more 
public nature. 

My hearers, if every one took the responsibility 
of taking care of his own individual duties and in- 
terests this would be a very easy world to live in. 
It is this taking care of other people's duties and 
interests that wears upon you, wastes your time, and 
makes you miserable. If you want good company in 
this world, or any other, take good care and make 
yourself worthy of it. You cannot buy a passport 
into any better world than this, with any amount 
of ready cash. It is deeds must win admission. 
There are no complimentary tickets issued, and no 



15 



watered stock will be accepted at the ticket office. 
My dear hearers, there is a great responsibility 
resting upon yon individually in this matter of look- 
ing out for number one. It is a job you cannot let out 
to the lowest bidder. You have no business to abuse 
yourselves. You have intellects which should direct 
you towards your highest interests. You cannot 
cheat nature or nature's God. But you can cheat 
yourselves. Frame this motto and hang it in your 
dining rooms where it may admonish you continual- 

"Stand back gentlemen, Til compound this strife, 
'Tis deeds must win the prise." 
And so mote it be. 




My text for this occasion may be found in Shake- 
speare's tragedy of King Richard the Third, Act Y, 
Scene 4. 

A horse/ a horse! My kingdom for a horse. 

My Dear Hearers: — The horse is a noble animal, 
and in these modern times is greatly hankered after. 
It is not probable that in ancient or modern times, a 
greater offer was ever made for a single specimen, 
than that made by King Richard, and probably no 
one was ever in a greater hurry than he was at the 
time he uttered the memorable words of my text. 
Richard had been dissipating in ambitious projects, 
and found himself in a tight place and horsejockeys 
were scarce. What a chance for speculation, yet no 
one took up the offer. 



17 

But, my brethren, the horse of modern times is a 
peculiar institution. He is carried a little to excess. 
A good horse is a good thing, a very good thing ; but 
he is estimated too much as politicians are, by his 
wind, and his capacity for getting over a good deal 
of ground and drawing fools after him. There are a 
great many people in a hurry now-a-days and some 
who, like King Richard would invest their whole 
kingdom in a single horse. But, my deluded friends, 
the fast horse, as such, is of but little account, except 
on the race course, for ninnies to bet their money on. 
It is the steady jogging animal who goes all day, and 
all the week and comes out fresh and strong, that 
you can get dividends out of. I dislike the word 
"fast" applied to anything unless it is a telegraph. 
Fast horses, fast men, and fast women are not the 
kind to take stock in. If I was fitting up a world to 
suit myself I would not have any of this kind in it. 
They do not improve society. It is not health} 7 for 
things to move out of their proper limits. A clock 
or a watch that should run two hours ahead of time 
every day would not be worth a rush. This is a fast 
age. It is. We are in too much of a hurry. We 
can't wait, and we become old before we know it. 
We eat too fast, we read too fast, we talk too fast, 
Ave ride too fast, we try to get rich too fast, and we 
die too fast. Now this hurrying business don't pay, 
my hearers. It will get you into a great many tight 
places, that you will be in as much of a hurry to get 
out of as King Richard was, and you may perhaps 
call as loudly as he did for a horse to help you out. 
Be deliberate, my irrepressible hearers. Don't try 



18 



to get ahead of time. The race is not always "To 
him who fastest runs." Keep cool, and when the 
race of life is run you will find your reward. 

So mote it be. 




JultL. 



The subject of my discourse is contained in the 
following test : 

"Tobacco is an Indian weed, 

And from the Devil did proceed, 

It wastes your money, scents your clothes, 

And makes a chimney of your nose." 

My Incorrigible Hearers :— The language of my 
text is of doubtful origin, but it was undoubtedly 
wrought into its present poetical form under inspir- 
ation from King James I., of England, who, in a 
" Counter -blaste" on the use of tobacco, declared 
smoking "loathsome to the eye, hurtful to the nose, 
harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and 
the black, stinking smoke thereof nearest resem- 
bling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit which is 
bottomless." 



20 

My text asserts that "Tobacco is an Indian weed," 
which appears to be a fact, in relation to the Euro- 
pean races and their descendants. And it further 
asserts that it "From the Devil did proceed," so that 
his Satanic Majesty must have introduced it among 
the Indians for an experiment. 

About three hundred years ago it was discovered 
by Europeans, transported to Europe, and introduced 
into civilized society. From its use for smoking 
among a few savage tribes found on this continent 
at its discovery it has spread to all parts of the world, 
and is now just about as prevalent as original 
sin. Estimates have been made that the present 
consumption of tobacco for smoking, chewing and 
snuffing amounts to about four and one-half pounds 
per annum for every inhabitant of the globe. 

Without attempting to prove the poet's assertion 
as to the origin of the weed, I will leave this part of 
the subject by saying that it seems a work highly 
creditable to the profession of a devil, and I do not 
see how the devil he could get along without it, and 
it seems highly appropriate that he should make his 
first experiment upon a race of savages as a means 
to its further introduction among mankind. 

Bat the waste of the thing is the point to which I 
wish to call your profound attention, and this waste 
appears not only in money but in energy and morals. 
But, my incorrigible hearers, I do not expect to 
convert a sinner of you who has the habit of chew- 
ing or smoking fastened upon him. I expect you to 
carry this little "evidence of your early smartness 
with you until the undertaker pays his last respects 



21 



to yon. But what I most expect of you is that you 
will teach your sons that it hasn't made you half as 
smart as you expected, that it has cost enough to buy 
anywhere from a library to a farm, that it never did 
a farthing's worth of good, and that it sticks to you 
closer than the multiplication table. Think of this, 
ye slaves to a dirty habit, and say if you wish your 
children to become slaves. Then think of the quan- 
tity of tobacco for ten years' consumption, all in a 
pile, and yourself chewing away upon it, or puffing- 
it away in smoke. It is not a thing to feel proud of 
to have such a habit haunting you at all times and 
seasons, and then it is not always convenient to spare 
the money from your family or your creditors which 
this appetite calls for. It isn't pleasant to think you 
were fool enough to be led into such a habit, but you 
console yourself with the idea that it does not make 
you drunk, and you say you can give it up when you 
choose to, therefore I will not try to reclaim you. 

The amount of business energy expended in the pro- 
duction and manufacture of tobacco is enormous, and 
the amount of capital invested can not be comput- 
ed, but it would exceed our highest calculations ; and 
all this industry and capital is employed without the 
smallest equivalent of good to mankind. I am a 
great deal happier without my cigar or quid of to- 
bacco than you are with it, and I know that • I am 
physically better for being without them. Tobacco 
is worse than useless to me. So it is to you. It is 
useless to everybody. A pig won't touch it. It 
makes an elephant mad. A goose can't bear it, and 
the smoke of it is said to kill snakes. It is too rank 



2.2 

for medicine, and the doctors do not use it on their 
patients if they do upon themselves. 

Now, my aspiring young hearers, let me tell you 
that it was not the chopping down of a cherry tree 
that made Washington great and honored. It was 
not cigars nor fast horses that made General Grant 
president. It is much better to let your father's 
cherry trees stand and find something else to tell the 
truth about. It is a pretty good rule never to do 
anything for which we may be sorry. It is an easy 
matter to form a habit which will curse your whole 
lives, but it will not remove the habit to be sorry 
that you formed it. You may in an unguarded mo- 
ment commit an act which will stain your character 
for a lifetime, and no amount of sorrow will restore 
your own self-respect. Keep on good terms with 
your conscience. I wouldn't give a cent for a bor- 
rowed conscience to do business upon. So don't 
borrow, nor lend. Don't starve your conscience into 
the idea that tobacco will make you smart, or that it 
will not do you any hurt. If you can't get any good 
out of a thing let it alone. 

So mote it be. 




My text for this occasion may be found in an ad- 
dress recently delivered by Herbert Spencer, before 
an audience of his admirers in New York : 

"Tlie American, eagerly pursuing a future good, 
almost ignores what good the passing day offers him, 
and when the future good is gained, he neglects that 
— while striving for some still remoter good. 

My Inconsiderate Hearers -.—There is a large 
amount of truth experessed in this remark of Mr. 
Spencer's. He has been a close observer of American 
manners during his short visit here, and he speaks 
considerately, and not reproachfully, of this peculiar 
characteristic of the American people. He does not 
even suggest a remedy. He knows too well that 
America would cease to be America without the prac- 
tice of the gospel of push and money-making. He 



24 

points to the consequences of over-worked muscles 
and over-worked brains. He says : "exclusive devo- 
tion to work lias the result that amusements cease to 
please, and when relaxation becomes imperative life 
becomes dreary from lack of its sole (soul?) interest 
— the interest of business." 

The English of this is, my hearers, that we, as 
Americans, are too much in a hurry to enjoy the 
blessings of life. Eighty ten, twelve, fifteen hours of 
devotion to business, fatigue, rest preparatory to a 
repetition of the last day's experiences, three meals 
so hurriedly swallowed that we forget the next mo- 
ment what has been eaten or whether we have eaten 
at all. We pocket the bank notes which represent 
all this labor, spend it for — we hardly know what — 
and this is life — and, we try to believe, enjoyment. 

My hearers, we are living in high-pressure times. 
America is a high-pressure country, but in all this 
bustle of business, and "getting a living" as we call 
it, we do not realize what we are passing through. 
The great end of life is to get a living, or, in other 
words, money, as this represents everything else, and 
in this scramble for money we become insensible to 
a thousand blessings by which we are surrounded, 
and perhaps remain in ignorance of a thousand 
unseen and unknown dangers. We make money by 
rule and spend it at hap-hazard. We are limited in 
the accumulation of money by the equivalent which 
we may have in time or brains to exchange for it, and 
it comes to us, as a general thing, in small doses, 
much too small to satisfy our greed for it. But is it 
not astonishing, my improvident hearers, how slip- 



25 



pery it is! Trying to hold live eels is nothing to it. 
It is here; it is gone; it is nowhere as to ourselves, 
and the next thing is to get more. And so we work 
and work, and hope and hope, for something better, 
which hope keeps us spurred up to efforts to keep 
afloat, and if possible to "get ahead." Getting ahead, 
though, is an up-hill business, unless we happen to 
have rich fathers, rich uncles, or rich wives. It is 
so «asy to spend money, and it is so hard to get it, 
it keeps us in a perpetual hurry. If we go anywhere 
we are in a hurry to go and in a hurry to get back. 
If we lose an hour by a delayed railroad train the 
loss is irreparable. 

There is a better way of doing things, my hearers, 
if we could but once adopt it. It takes pluck, 
though, and it takes brains. With all our "Yankee 
kalkiilations" is it not a little strange that we do not 
calculate so as to have a little more to show for all 
this hard, unceasing drudgery? We ought to be 
ashamed of ourselves to tug away at this rate, just 
for our victuals and clothes. There is a screw loose 
somewhere in our calculating machine. It leaks, 
and we can't find the hole just because we are in too 
much of a hurry to keep the dish full. Work is a 
good thing ; money is a good thing ; but, what a pity 
that it comes so hard and goes so easy, and what a 
pity it is that credit is so much easier to obtain than 
money. Money itself is only evidence of debt. It 
only signifies that somebody owes somebody else, 
and somebody, as soon as he gets it, passes it to the 
next man. A good smart dollar bill started out in 
the morning, may pay a hundred dollars' worth of 



26 



debts before night, and return at night to roost 
where it started from in the morning. 

Now, the better way is, keep out of debt, this will 
be the first step to opulence— keep out of debt. 
Perhaps you never felt the joy of being out of debt, 
but try it. It takes pluck, but try it, and when you 
have once conquered yourself to this system, you 
will not be in half so much of a hurry. You can 
then take things coolly and the world will be all 
smiles to you. If you happen to have a ten dollar 
bill you will know who it belongs to, and you can 
laugh dull care away. If you happen to be hungry, 
buy what is necessary and best, and pay for it. If 
you want clothes, buy them only when you can pay 
for them and leave a balance of cash on hand. Keep 
cool. Haste results in waste. It makes friction 
and you lose motive power by friction. There is 
nothing like having cash on hand. This better way 
involves the most thorough system of book-keeping 
and in all your transactions keep up the credit side! 
Be honest with your neighbor, and owe him nothing 
but kindness, because this you can always pay at 
sight and have a balance left. Be honest with your- 
selves. You may become so indebted to yourselves 
as to be hopelessly bankrupt, and the more you are 
in a hurry the deeper you are in debt. You owe it 
to yourselves to be sober, temperate, and wise, and 
no cheating. A balance here on the credit side 
makes the best show possible. It is better than 
bank deposits or railroad stock, and it Days better 
interest than Credit Mobiliers. 

And finally, my brethren, when you come to settle 
up your last account and strike a general balance, 
you will find it a great convenience to be able to 
show a balance of cash on hand. 

So mote it be. 




My text for this week is selected from Robert 
Burns' "Poem on Life," a part of the second verse : 

what a canty world were it, 
Would pain and care, and sickness spare if; 
And fortune favour loorth and merit, 

As they deserve. 

My Complaining Heaeees: — The Scottish bard 
was wont to rail at the world and fortune, for not 
rewarding merit as it seemed to him to deserve. 
Burns was conscious of the two warring elements in 
his nature — the lofty, sincere, loving, devoted, and 
pious nature, inherited from pure old Scottish stock ; 
and the grumbling, peevish depraved nature of the 
debauchee. Into his poetry he breathed all the 
varying lights and shades which lie between these 
two extremes. How, in his "Cotter's Saturday Night" 



28 

lie paints, as none like him could ever paint, in 
glowing, truthful, enchanting poetry, a life scene, 
combining all the elements of love, purity, and 
christian devotion, every line of which, touches a 
chord in the human soul. And then again, with the 
same artist's skill, he weaves even his bacchanalian 
revels into bewitching poetry, which makes even his 
worst vices seem virtues. We cannot but look with 
pity upon a nature so overwrought with the poet's 
gift, to see it perverted, and debauched by the 
damning vice of inebriety. And how - bitterly he 
himself bewails it. 

Ah Nick! ah Nick! it is nafair, 
First showing us the tempting ware, 
Bright wines and honnie lasses rare, 

To put us daft; 
Syne weave, unseen, thy spider snare 

0' hell's damnd waft. 

But, my hearers, we are all imbued with this 
complaining spirit, if not in the extreme, at least in 
a degree. We growl and complain ceaselessly, 
because pain and care and sickness do not spare us, 
and because fortune does not (in our estimation) 
reward our merits as they deserve. And, like poor 
Burns, we indulge in those very excesses which en- 
tail upon us the evils of which Ave complain. There's 
hardly a mother's son or daughter of us, who will 
sacrifice a little gastronomic pleasure to save our- 
selves a great deal of pain and sickness.. We eat, 
and drink, and chew, and smoke, and snuff, and 
guzzle, and swallow quack medicine, and medicine 
by due authority, and "yarb drink," and use plasters 



29 



and poultices, and faith cure, as though our happi- 
ness, present and prospective, depended upon how 
much we crammed into our stomachs. And then, 
my brethren, just see where the point of this great 
practical joke comes in. We work, eighteen, 
twelve, and perhaps sixteen hours, out of the twen- 
ty-four, to earn the money to pay grocers 1 , doctors", 
and medicine bills. And all this for what? Abusing 
the stomach, "only this and nothing more." What 
is the first thing we do when we are sick? Why we 
pitch some compound or other into the stomach to 
drive the devil, disease, out of the stomach. Did 
you ever think, my dear deluded hearers, how much 
abuse is heaped upon this poor old scrap bag the 
stomach, and how mercilessly we allow our" dear 
little cherubs to cram confectionery and all sorts of 
goodies, from morning to night, thus polluting the 
very source and spring of health and laying the 
foundation for pain, care, and sickness, for a life 
time— a life time of slavery to a perverted appetite? 
We pity the poor drunkard and the wine bibber, for 
his slavery to appetite, and we mourn as those with- 
out hope, over the annual death rate of this 
unfortunate class. But do we ever take into the 
calculation how much of this evil is but the maturing 
crop from the seed sown in the nursery, the kitchen, 
and the pantry? And could we but know, with 
approximate accuracy, the dietetic abuse, we should 
stand appalled at the picture presented. 

My hearers, we are a set of stupid grumblers. We 
know how to feed calves, and how to make them all 
live and keep healthy, and we have not the common 



30 

sense of a gray goose in the matter of feeding our 
children and keeping them alive. We bury about 
half of them away out of sight and make providence 
debit for this dispensation, and mourn over those 
little shoes, and little socks, and playthings, and 
wonder why Providence is so unkind, and try to be 
reconciled. 

0, what a canty world were it, 

Would pain and care and, sielcness spare it. 

And why in the name of common sense, can we 
not learn to reason from effect to cause sufficiently 
to see our own malpractice upon ourselves. How 
long must we preachers worry ourselves, and wear 
ourselves out, to teach the world the plainest prin- 
ciples of common sense in regard to self abuse. And 
also to teach, that if they want "a canty world" to 
live in, and a world in which merit will receive its 
deserved reward, to begin at home, each for himself. 

Finally, my hearers, what a gigantic subject it is 
for contemplation, that of all the crimes, and miseries, 
and degredation, and quarrels, and the sickness, and 
the suffering, and every abomination which curses 
mankind, an overwhelming majority of all these are 
traceable to an insanity engendered by an abuse of 
the stomach. Intemperance is the curse of all curses, 
and all are contaminated with it. Some of the most 
intemperate men preach temperance and prohibition. 
We cannot wipe out this curse by law alone. The 
curse of dram shops may be abated by extreme leg- 
islation, but the appetite remains, and the ignorance 
remains which lies at the foundation of the evil. 



31 



But, after all, the world moves, and the fittest 
survive, and to them this is "a canty world," besides 
being a world of considerable cant and hypocrisy. 
But it moves, everything is astir for developing the 
best and the fittest, in every department of life. 
Half-way, bungled-up jobs do not stand against this 
critical age. "We are working towards the grand 
solution of the great problem of human life, and we 
are learning in a measure to estimate human needs 
and Iranian frailties. "We learn by experience, 
though we are dull scholars, but learn we must. A 
backward movement is hardly possible. The grum- 
bler will wake up some time to find himself left 
behind. Great changes are effected suddenly, and 
often unexpectedly. The spirit of reform is abroad 
and is wrestling with wrong and outrage, and the 
right will ultimately prevail, and reason will triumph 
over self-imposed insanity. 
So mote it be. 




The subject of my text, this week, may be found 
almost everywhere, and the greatest trouble is, to 
keep out of its way. It is 
The Locomotive. 

My Disquieted Heaeees : — In the early days when 
Sikes, Jr., was a small boy, no locomotive engine 
had ever trod the solid earth. Mankind, and woman 
unkind, had to go on foot, ride on horseback, or in 
some kind of a vehicle drawn by a 10:20 horse or a 
20:10 pair of oxen. People in those days were not 
in such a hurry .as now, and a journey of ten miles 
was made with much contentment by oxomotive 
power. Men, women and children, out in the 
country, would condescend to ride in an ox-cart, 
and it was not an uncommon thing for men, and 
women too, to undertake a journey of a mile or more 



33 



on foot. In fact, it may be said truthfully, that it 
was then fashionable to walk. But along about A. D. 
1825 peop 7 e began to get in a hurry, and Father 
John Bull began to rub his eyes and wondered what 
he should do. People were tiring of staying at home 
but it took much time to go abroad. So says Father 
John one day, "I will give any man =£500 to build a 
locomotive steam engine that shall not cost over 
£550 and that shall not exceed six tons in weight 
and shall draw three times its own weight 10 miles 
an hour." John thought he was safe in making so 
magnificent an offer, but in 1829 four steam locomo- 
tives were ready for trial for the prize, by four 
different parties. One of these balked at the start. 
The next started off well but the boiler fizzled out. 
The next one left the wire in good shape and 
attained a speed of 15 miles an hour, with a nine- 
teen-tons load, but it balked,. The successful engine, 
named the Rocket, shot off at a steady gait of 14 
miles, drawing seventeen tons after it, and, when 
hard pushed on a straight track, nearly doubled that 

speed. 

What an achievement was this. Never was a 

prize of £500 more fairly earned ; everybody got in 

a hurry, Uncle Sam hitched up his suspenders and 

began to lay tracks, and about the middle of the 

year 1829 three locomotives were .imported from 

England and first waked the echoes among the hills 

and valleys of Pennsylvania, and were started at 

hauling coal in connection with the Delaware and 

Hudson canal. And they did haul it too. 

And now, my hearers, just look back a period of 



34' 

fifty years, and, you that can't, look back as far as 
you can. A half century isn't much, but just note 
the changes. In 1832 about 131 miles of railroad 
track had been laid in these -United States. Now 
we have about 100,000 miles strung out over every 
state and territory in the Union. The locomotive 
now goes screeching and puffing over rivers, through 
mountains and over mountains, through cities and 
over the tops of cities, and under cities, not at ten 
miles an hour but at the rate of a mile a minute. 
Great ponderous monsters, weighing, not 4^ tons 
like the Rocket, but weighing from 25 to 75 tons, 
and hauling its tens of thousands of passengers, 
daily, and an amount of freight which puzzles arith- 
metic to estimate. The locomotive is the most 
abject servant. It doesn't balk — not often. Ring- 
bone, spavin, glanders, and epizootic do not trouble 
it. It goes through storms, tempests, snow banks 
and fire, whenever the engineer says "Go." And 
then, my hearers, how cheaply it works. It will 
haul you a barrel of flour, or a bag of wheat or corn, 
1000 miles, cheaper than you can get it hauled 15 
miles by horse team. You can have your garden 
patch, your wheat field, your fruit orchard, your 
fuel, 3 7 our illuminating oil, in fact everything you 
want, to eat, drink or wear, a hundred or a thousand 
miles away, and the locomotive brings it to your 
door, almost, at a cost so trifling that it seems im- 
possible such service can be done at a paying profit. 
But all this comes from the concentration of capital, 
labor, brains, and the locomotive. And yet the 
locomotive is king. It rules over all. It neither 



35 

fears God nor regards man. It goes bellowing and 
howling through jour streets, across jour streets, 
ceasing not, claj nor night, and you have only to 
keep out of its waj. It regards not blue-laws, or 
Sunday laws, but makes its own laws. It breaks 
jour slumber or it breaks jour bones, almost with 
impunity. It disturbs jou at jour private devotions, 
it disturbs jour public worship on Sundays. It 
respects not saint nor sinner. 

And now, my long-suffering and subjected hearers, 
the locomotive is a usurper and a tyrant, and what 
are you going to do about it? But at the same time 
it increases the value of your property wherever it 
goes, unless you happen to have a farm for it to 
romp through. It does your hard dirty work at a 
small cost. You can live in half a dozen cities at 
the same time if you choose to, and come home at 
night to roost, but you can't control it any more 
than you can the cost of green peas on the planet 
Jupiter. It shuts the mouths of dragons, congress- 
men, and legislatures. It drives your stock to water 
and takes the grass leaving you the water. It does 
everything a tyrant can do, and still we hug it to our 
bosoms and could not live without it, or as Peter 
Pindar expresses it in his "Ode to the Devil :" 
"And yet your ways so very winning, 
And men so very fond of sinning, 
We cannot live without thee." 

And now, brethren, having set forth some special 
truths in regard to the locomotive, I leave it to your 
consideration, and if you can relieve yourselves 
from its worst evils, and preserve all its best possi- 
bilities, then 

So mote it be. 




My text at this time will be readily recognized 
as the production of Scotland's erratic, but highly 
renowned poet bard : — 

"The honest mem, tho' eer so poor 
Is king o' men for a that."" 

My Distrustful Hearers: — There are some in 
this world so cynical as to deny the existence of an 
honest man. An ancient gentleman by the name of 
Diogenes is said to have searched long with a lan- 
tern by day and by night for a single specimen, but 
without success. Diogenes died long ago but the 
demand for lanterns has continued to the present 
clay. 

The author of my text was a man of perception . 
and he seemed to recognize the existence of "the 
honest man," but fails to mention his name. But 



37 

he says of him, that, "Though e'er so poor he was 
king of men for a' that, '\ thereby assuming that pov- 
erty was no bar to honesty. But he asserts that 
honesty raises the poor man to the dignity of a king. 
The scarcity of kings at the present time seems to 
indicate a low state of honesty. Then the precarious 
nature of the tenure which eveiy man holds to a new 
umbrella- would seem to indicate that lanterns must 
be lighted with the electric candle to find the man 
who ever returned a lost umbrella, or one who was 
willing to relinquish his title to the one he holds by 
possession, in consequence of any flaw you may 
point out to him in his title. It would really seem, 
that, in the general judgment, the umbrella would 
have to be ignored, in order to save anybody. 

But, my hearers, the umbrella is only a casual 
thing. When a person wants one, he wants it in 
earnest, and when he does not want one, he does not 
care who has his, so long as he can borrow a better 
one of his neighbor when he needs one. The um- 
brella is not personal property. When it passes out 
of the hands of the merchant, it becomes common 
property and is governed only by the law of natural 
selection. 

But this chicanery, and over-reaching, and mis- 
representation, which enters into the general business 
transactions of life is the evil which makes every 
man distrustful of his neighbor and his neighbor 
distrustful of him. If we want to buy anything we 
can see the slightest imperfections which the article 
exhibits. If we have an article to sell we don't see 
these imperfections. Cheating is the great element 



38 

of success in business. To make a man believe that 
you are selling a thing for less than its actual value, 
is the key to money making. To make a man be- 
lieve that he is charging you for an article more than 
its actual value, is sharpness in trade, and shows 
your powers of misrepresentation. The thousand 
little dishonest tricks in trade are the sources of 
wealth. There is a diversity in men as to this qual- 
ity of misrepresentation ; one man succeeds by his 
eloquence, or his flattery combined with cheek, and 
another man fails, Avho can tell just as big a lie, but 
has neither the eloquence or the cheek to overcome 
his antagonist. The man is smart who can tell you 
a lie and make you believe it to be truth against 
your convictions, and you pay him for his smartness, 
and the man who tells you the truth you refuse to 
believe, because he is not as good company. 

My hearers, we like smart men and rather enjoy 
being cheated, just to hear the harangue of your 
smart, flattering, persuasive salesman, and you will 
trade with hini next time out of regard to his smart- 
ness. Honesty is a word of doubtful meaning, we 
hardly recognize it as a dictionary word. The honest 
good man is a by- word. He is a good fellow to pass 
a contribution box, or keep a toll gate, or to peddle 
skim-milk and eggs, but you would never employ 
him to go out and sell your wares, or to purchase 
your goods for marketing. It's smartness, not hon- 
esty, that pays, and gets paid. The great point in 
manufacturing is to make goods just as cheap as 
possible, cheat all you can in the material and then 
employ somebody to sell it who can tell the biggest, 



39 

smoothest lies. A fair exterior to your goods is the 
thing sought and to fill up the middle with shoddy, 
with brown paper, with sand, anything to give 
weight or seeming value and which can be covered 
from sight by a veil of genuineness. These evidences 
of dishonesty appear in almost everything we eat, 
drink or wear. 

world! shoddy world, when will you make it 
lawful to return borrowed umbrellas and give us 
honest victuals and clothes. Poets may sing of 
honest poverty and a' that, but what we want is 
honest wealth. If poverty cheats you out of a groat, 
the man is a knave, a cheat. If wealth cheats you 
out of millions it is the mark of a great mind and of 
excessive smartness. We, the people of the humbler 
classes, must be contented to be honest (when we 
must) and hug the delusion to our bosoms that 
"honesty is the best policy." But the aristocracy 
of wealth may go on robbing, as they have done 
since the world stood, and what is the remedy? 

This, my hearers, is the way the world looks at 
this thing and this is the way the world talks about 
it. But there is a better sentiment in our natures 
which rules in the main. There is a feeling of con- 
fidence between men and men in the way of deal, in 
every day transactions which makes us feel that we 
are brothers, and that, whatsoever we would have 
men do to us and for us, we must do to and for 
them. The scramble for wealth goes on in spite of 
us, and it works out the ends by its own methods. 
But there is a certain something in our social life 
which knits us together and makes us feel that we 



40 



are among friends in the great battle of life, and that 
we must stand shoulder to shoulder and lean npon 
each other with confidence in each other's integrity. 

"Then let us pray, that come what may, 

As come it will for a? that — 
That sense and worth o'er «' the earth 

May hear the gree and a? that, 
For «' that and a that. 

If s coming yet for «' that, 

That man to man, the world o'er 
Shall brothers be for a that." 

And so mote it be. 




My text on this occasion may be found on page 
41, Part V., Sec. I, of the Public Acts of the State 
of Connecticut, passed January session, 1882 : a part 
of "An Act to Regulate and Restrain the Sale of 
Spirituous and Intoxicating Liquors." 

"All Spirituous and Intoxicating Liquors, which 
are intended by the owner and, keeper thereof to he sold 
or exchanged, (in violation of law,) shall, together 
with the vessels in which such liquors arc contained, 
be, and be deemed, a nuisance." 

My Infatuated Heaeers: — It is right and proper, 
before entering into a consideration of this text, that 
I should quote to you the first license law upon 
record, passed by a "General Courte," in Hartford, 
in the year 1613. 

"Whereas many complaynts are brought into the 
Courte by reason of diverse abuses that fall out by 



42 

severall persons that sell Wyne and Strong Water, 
as well in vessels on the River, as also in severall 
houses, for the prevention whereof — It is now 
ordered that no person or persons after the publish- 
ing this order, shall neither sell Wyne nor Strong- 
Water, in any place within these Liberties, without 
Licence from the particular Courte or any two 
Magistrates." 

Also at a general Courte in Hartford, April 6th, 
1654 — "It was also ordered, that, whatsoever Barba- 
dos liquors, commonly called Rum, or Kill Devill, or 
the like, shall be landed in any place of this 
jurisdiction, or any part thereof, sould, or drawne, in 
any vessel lying in any harbour or Roade in this 
commonwealth, after the publication of this order, 
shall be all forfeited and confiscated to this com- 
monwealth." 

Now, my beloved hearers, compare carefully these 
court orders passed more than two hundred years 
ago, with the ten pages of our present License law, 
and tell me if you can, what progress we have made 
in dealing with this question. 

It is a satisfaction to inform you that the concen- 
trated wisdom of the State, after an experience of 
more than two centuries, is condensed in this Act, 
which supersedes and repeals all other Acts, hereto- 
fore passed, and we have the whole thing at last in 
a nutshell. 

And now, brethren and sisters, I crave your serious 
attention while we proceed to analyze this "Act to 
Regulate and Restrain the Sale of Spirituous and 
Intoxicating liquors." 



43 



You will observe, first, with what seriousness our 
learned legislators enact, in the language of my text, 
that "all Spirituous and Intoxicating Liquors, which 
are intended by the owner and keeper thereof to be 
sold or exchanged * shall be, and 

be deemed, a nuisance." And in token of their 
honesty they proceed to inform the people how they 
may proceed to take possession of, and destroy, the 
liquors, and the casks even, without benefit of clergy. 
We may therefore take it for granted, that all spirit- 
uous and intoxicating liquors in their original and 
unregenerate state, are "to be, and be deemed, a 
nuisance" and the majesty of violated law can only 
be upheld by their total destruction. You will please 
carry this in your minds as the most consistent and 
truthful feature of the Act. The whole ten pages, 
aside from the words of the text, are devoted to 
Eegulating, Kestraining, Regenerating, Restoring, 
Reinstating, this nuisance. So then a good, respect- 
able, conscientious man, who wants to sell, must get 
five electors, tax payers, not one of whom can own 
a gin-mill, to sign an application, setting forth that 
the applicant wants to sell this nuisance to Sunday 
schools, and sewing societies, and all very nice men, 
who never get drunk, and, to women too, who feel 
bad, and that the store where he wants to sell it is 
two hundred feet from any church or schoolhouse. 
Then this application must be advertised for two 
weeks, so that every man can know that the applicant 
is a good fellow, who wouldn't sell any unregenerate 
liquor to his boy, his wife, or his grandfather, when 
he was told not to. To make sure that none but 



44 



deacons or class leaders shall apply for a license, 
onr astute legislators have provided, that any person, 
a citizen of the town, may send in writing to the 
county commissioner, who holds the power to grant 
or withold licenses, any objection he may have to 
the applicant as a dispenser of exhilarating bever- 
ages, and the applicant must clear away these 
objections and show a clear record before he can get 
his license. 

And now, my astonished listeners, let me tell you 
of the wonderful saving grace which regenerates this 
nuisance and gives it respectability, so that the man 
who sells it can look you all in the face and say, 
"You did it." It is the sum of $100 to $500, 95 per 
cent, of which goes into your town treasury, and 5 
per cent, into your county treasury, to pay the com- 
missioner for his services. This $100, my beloved, 
is the panacea which takes all the nuisance out of 
spirituous and intoxicating liquor and converts it 
into a stimulating beverage, tit for nice, sober men 
and women to drink. How wonderful that our leg- 
islators should have thought of it to introduce this 
into the Act. The Hartford General Council, in 
1642, had not thought of this grand scheme of selling 
indulgences. Had this been left out, the Act would 
have been very imperfect, and would not have been 
Avorth the paper which the original draft was written 
on. One hundred dollars! What a princely sum 
for so meagre a privilege granted to a citizen whose 
character must be so emphatically verified, before 
he can receive the privilege of selling nectar to the 
saints. 



45 

But, my hearers, mark how these wise legislators 
hedge about these good honest men, by arrests, 
tines, and imprisonment, as though when a man had 
bought this privilege and paid for it they had a 
right to withhold it. 

Here is a list of penalties : — For selling or expos- 
ing for sale any spirituous or intoxicating liquors 
between 12 o'clock Saturday night, and midnight on 
Sunday, one hundred dollars fine and six months 
imprisonment — as though a man or woman who 
wants drink on Friday doesn't want it on Sunday. 

Then, for selling to a minor, or intoxicated person, 
or to a man when his wife has told the seller not to 
let him have any, fifty dollars fine and sixty days 
imprisonment. The unkindest cut of all is, that any 
licensed person who keeps open shop on election 
day, from five o'clock in the morning to the time of 
closing the poles, fifty dollars fine. It is a wonder 
they did not provide that prayer meetings should be 
held during such days in all bar-rooms. 

Then again, a man is liable to fifty dollars fine for 
keeping his store open from twelve at night to five 
o'clock in the morning. 

How preposterous, that a man who wants a drink 
on election day can't have it until it is paid for by 
his vote, and if he happens to be detained and does 
not get to his hotel until 12:05 a. m., he can't get 
his drink. 

A man would be a fool who would pay from $100 
to $500 for a horse, and then agree that he wouldn't 
use it Sundays, nights, or election days, under a 
penalty of $50 to $100. I would not give a fish-hook 



46 



for one of these licenses, unless I could have things 
my own way. How humiliating to a high-minded 
man who, after passing through the ordeal of an 
application and paid his license fee and given his 
bond for three hundred dollars more, signed and 
endorsed by some bosom friend, and then to be 
hauled before some petty justice and fined a hun- 
dred dollars for giving a drink to a thirsty voter on 

election day. 

Yes, my hearers, my text expresses a truth. "A 
nuisance" ; every page and every section nails the 
verdict, nuisance, to the whole thing, and what an 
unmitigated folly will this Act to Eegulate and 
Eestrain the sale of Spirituous and Intoxicating 
Liquors be, to future generations, when this stupen- 
dous crime against manhood, of selling intoxicating 
drinks, shall be wiped out. 

Shall we live to see this day? 

So mote it be. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




015 871 753 



